Sordid selfishness doth contract and narrow our benevolence, and cause us, like serpents, to infold ourselves within ourselves, and to turn out our stings to the entire world besides.

Heap on more wood! - the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still.

The heart-sick faintness of the hope delayed!

Respect was mingled with surprise, And the stern joy which warriors feel In foemen worthy of their steel.

It is more difficult to look upon victory than upon battle.

Treason seldom dwells with courage.

Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.